


Insight

by cerkowah



Series: The Otter and The Crow [1]
Category: The Otter and The Crow, Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Animal Death, Anxiety Attacks, Cancer (implied), Disabled Character, Disassociation, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, LGBT characters, M/M, Mentally Ill Characters, Mentions of kitten death, Multi, No relation to canon, Original Character(s), Overprotective Parenting, Physical Abuse, Sick Character, Starving characters, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:08:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23180710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerkowah/pseuds/cerkowah
Summary: Otterkit spent most of his life isolated, trapped in the nursery by his possessive mother. He longs for the outside world and the cats that live there, but he has no idea what he will discover when he finally enters it. Cats are willing to do anything to get what they want, and if he doesn’t learn to navigate this treacherous field, he may find himself making decisions that aren’t his to make.Written by CerkowahThe Otter and The Crow contains graphic depictions of gore and death, as well as emotional and physical abuse. Please read with caution and heed the tags!!Will be updated weekly!
Series: The Otter and The Crow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666441
Kudos: 9





	1. Allegiances

#### Rockclan

**Leader:**   
Greystar; a large long furred grey tom with yellow eyes 

**Deputy:**  
Boltstrike; a white tom with large black markings and green eyes

**Medicine Cat:**  
Briartangle; a speckled brown she-cat with a white belly and white spots, yellow eyes

**Warriors:**  
Willowtail; a white tom with a grey striped tail and blue eyes  
Leopardleap; a golden brown tom with odd dark spots and long legs, green eyes  
Fireclaw; a ginger tabby tom with a white belly and amber eyes  
Speckleshine; a tabby calico she-cat with blue eyes  
Beavertail; a dark brown tom with a broad tail and yellow eyes  
Stubbytail; a tiny cream tabby tom with a short tail and green eyes  
 _Apprentice: Snowpaw_  
Leafspot; a grey and tan tortoiseshell she-cat with yellow eyes   
Shellbrook; a lanky she-cat with a grey pelt and dark markings, green eyes

**Apprentices:**  
Snowpaw; a silver tabby she-cat with a white face and blue eyes

**Queens:**  
Whitewhisker; a pale brown she-cat with long whiskers and amber eyes (mother of Boltstrike’s kits, Darkkit and Lilykit)  
Russetpelt; a ginger tabby she-cat with amber eyes (mother of Beavertail’s kit, Otterkit)

**Kits:**  
Otterkit; a dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes  
Lilykit; a grey she-cat with swirling white spots and green eyes  
Darkkit; a black she-cat with white paws and a white muzzle, yellow eyes

**Elders:**  
Longtongue; a pale brown tabby she-cat with a long tongue that hangs out of her mouth, amber eyes

#### Iceclan

**Leader:**   
Waspstar; a short grey tabby tom with dark stripes and a broad muzzle, amber eyes

**Deputy:**  
Blizzardclaw; a dark grey tom with black and white speckles, amber eyes

**Medicine Cat:**  
Yarroweye, a white tom with a grey stripe running down his back and black markings, yellow eyes   
_Apprentice: Whisperpaw_

**Warriors:**  
Crookedfoot: a cream tom with a black tail and muzzle, a twisted back foot, and blue eyes   
Spottedsnow; a cream she-cat with pale orange and grey markings, a white tail tip, and blue eyes  
Poplarbranch; a pale brown tom with a short muzzle and dark, swirling stripes, yellow eyes  
Spiritbreeze; a fluffy white tom with yellow eyes  
Copperflight; a skinny dark ginger tabby tom with green eyes  
Mulebelly; a silvery-grey she-cat with a pale brown stomach and black stripes, yellow eyes 

**Apprentices:**  
Whisperpaw; a solid grey tom with green eyes

**Queens:**  
Moonspot; a white she-cat with a pale grey face and tail, light blue eyes (mother of Waspstar’s kits, Beekit and Bittenkit)  
Sunleaf; a pale brown tabby she-cat with oddly short legs and green eyes (mother of Sandkit and Adderkit)

**Kits:**  
Beekit; a silver she-cat with dark black stripes and yellow eyes   
Bittenkit; a dark black tabby with white spots and a scar over one eye, one eye is blue and the other is green  
Sandkit; a dark ginger tabby tom with lighter patches and yellow eyes  
Adderkit; a brown tabby tom with a pale belly and green eyes

**Elders:**  
Silentstep; a skinny light grey she-cat with white spots and yellow eyes

#### Mossclan

**Leader:**   
Mirrorstar; a mostly white she cat with mirrored tabby markings on her head, blue eyes 

**Deputy:**  
Batear; a large black tom with long fur and yellow eyes 

**Medicine Cat:**  
Greenspot; a cream tabby she-cat with multi-coloured, brown and green eyes

**Warriors:**  
Cloverstripe; a mostly black tom with a white belly and an orange stripe running down his back, green eyes   
Forestfire; a dark brown tabby tom with green eyes   
_Apprentice: Squirrelpaw_  
Swirlheart; a ginger she-cat with swirling stripes and green eyes   
Goosedown; a scruffy grey tom with a white spot on his chest and amber eyes  
 _Apprentice: Sturgeonpaw_  
Cougarclaw; a large tan tom with yellow eyes  
Shinyclaw; a heavily scarred white tom with yellow eyes 

**Apprentices:**  
Squirrelpaw; a ginger she-cat with dark red markings and a fluffy tail, yellow eyes   
Sturgeonpaw; a dark brown she-cat with an oddly flat, narrow head and blue eyes 

**Queens:**  
Jaywillow; a striking silver tabby she-cat with a white stomach and blue eyes (mother of Goosedown’s kits, Fadedkit, Troutkit, Flykit, and Cracklekit)

**Kits:**  
Fadedkit; a white she-cat with faint silver tabby markings, blue eyes  
Troutkit; a dark grey tom with a white tail tip, yellow eyes  
Flykit; a small silver tabby tom with white paws, amber eyes  
Cracklekit; a ginger tabby she-cat with white splashes, blue eyes

**Elders:**  
Spreadgaze; a brown tabby she-cat with a pale chest and odd eyes


	2. Chapter 1

The bright light was startling, and Otterkit squinted his eyes as his tiny paws stepped out of the nursery. There were cats everywhere, grooming each other and chatting, their pale pelts blending in with the greys and browns of the stone floor. Otterkit stared in awe at the massive rocks stretching above his head at odd angles, some rounded by wind while others were sharp and jagged. Darkkit and Lilykit had told him how huge they were, but a part of him doubted anything so big could exist. But seeing them in front of him now, his doubts vanished. The camp was entirely surrounded by stone, some sections solid walls and others securely stacked boulders. There was only one entrance, a large gap between two massive boulders that was just wide enough for a cat to fit through. Moss had lodged itself wherever it could in the cracks of the chalky stone, providing a splash of green on the otherwise monochrome rock face. 

“Be careful Otterkit!” A fretful voice called from behind him, and Otterkit turned to face his mother. She was squeezing out of the nursery, and Otterkit realized he had accidentally padded away from her while he stared around the camp. 

“I’m sorry Russetpelt,” he mewed, hurrying back to her. Beavertail, his father, appeared next to her, licking her ruffled pelt soothingly. 

“You’ve kept him in the nursery for four moons already, let him explore,” Beavertail chided gently, resting his dark brown tail on Russetpelt’s back. Russetpelt sighed, looking down at Otterkit’s eager expression.

“Alright, but you know you can’t leave the camp.” 

As soon as the words were out of his mother’s mouth, Otterkit ran straight for the largest patch of moss he could see. Russetpelt huffed at his sudden departure, her tail flicking. Smiling, Beavertail stood, beckoning for her to follow him to the warrior's den, all the while reassuring her Otterkit would be ok. 

Otterkit stared up at the green mass above him, stretching on his hind legs in an attempt to reach it. His paw pads were still unused to the rough stone that made up the camp floor, but some of the stones along the wall were smoothed over. It was cold to the touch, shaded from the sun, and Otterkit was grateful for the relief on his burning paws. He stared up at the stubborn moss patch, whiskers twitching. The moss from his nest was all he had seen before, and he wondered what it felt like when it was fresh. How did it grow on the rock’s surface? He was a few whisker lengths away when a paw suddenly swiped the moss away. 

Dropping onto four paws, Otterkit glared at the intruder, his pelt bristling. The cat had a shimmering gold pelt, broken by dark circles along his sides; he was tall, and Otterkit had to strain his neck to see the cat’s head. Otterkit met the stranger’s intense green eyes, his own amber ones burning indignantly. 

“Kits shouldn’t be messing with the moss, we need it for nests,” the cat growled, rolling the moss he had pulled off the wall into a ball under his paw. Otterkit was about to retort when another new voice stopped him. 

“Lay off him Leopardleap, it’s his first time out of the nursery,” Fireclaw shouted from across the camp, his voice filled with amusement. Leopardleap narrowed his eyes at the ginger warrior but obliged, picking up his pile of moss with a final pointed look at Otterkit. Flashing an appreciative glance at his uncle, Otterkit hurried away from the moss, looking for new things to explore. Fireclaw rolled his eyes affectionately, returning to the mouse he had been eating. 

Otterkit sniffed along the rock walls, sticking his nose in whatever small holes and crevasses he could find. His pelt prickled, and he glanced backward, spotting Russetpelt’s concerned amber gaze locked on him. Tail flicking in agitation, he turned back to the wall, sniffing along the bottom of it. Suddenly, the wall disappeared, and he looked up to find a small gap between the solid shelf and a large boulder propped against it. It would have been too small for a full grown cat to fit in, but a test with Otterkit’s whiskers told him he could wiggle through it. The smell of the forest hit his nose, and he could see a sliver of light at the other end of the gap. 

He quickly glanced over his shoulder at his mother, but Beavertail had preoccupied her with a fish, and she was no longer watching him like a hawk. Grinning, Otterkit hurriedly wiggled his way into the gap, the rock pressing into his sides uncomfortably. He growled, scrabbling with his hind paws to force the rest of his body into the tunnel. It was a tight fit, but it would only take a small amount of wiggling to bring him to the forest at the other end. 

“She’s pathetic!” 

Otterkit jumped, banging his head against the stone roof. He winced, straining his ears to hear where the voice had come from. Muffled snarls came from somewhere in the forest, and he heard a sudden yelp of pain. Panicked, Otterkit scrambled backwards, the sides of the tunnel pushing his fur backwards painfully. 

Dropping out of the hole, Otterkit raced towards his mother, his eyes wide in alarm. 

“Otterkit?” Russetpelt exclaimed, “What’s wrong?” She immediately started fussing over him, smoothing his brown pelt down with her tongue. Beavertail looked down at him, confusion criss crossing his face. 

After a few moments of his mother’s soothing laps, Otterkit was finally able to speak. “I heard fighting!” he squeaked, pointing towards the gap with his tail, “In the forest over there!” 

Russetpelt exchanged a concerned look with her mate before resuming her soothing tongue strokes, although they were much more hurried than before. Looking in the direction Otterkit had pointed, Beavertail sighed, whispering something in Russetpelt’s ear. Relief washed over her face, and she turned to look at her kit, who was still staring up at her wide-eyed. 

“Don’t worry little one, that’s where the apprentice's train. They must be practicing battle training.” 

Otterkit blinked in surprise, still uneasy. “But-” he started, cut off when his mother suddenly turned her attention to the camp entrance. 

“Oh my, what happened?” She called, and Otterkit turned to see who she was talking to. He immediately recognized Whitewhisker, the other queen in the nursery. It took him a few seconds to recognize her mate next to her, his black tail draped over her back. A red streak cut across Whitewhisker’s brown muzzle, and he realized she was bleeding. 

“It’s nothing, she just ran into a thorn bush,” Boltstrike explained to the worried queen, smiling reassuringly. He was pressed close to Whitewhisker’s side as if he was guiding a blind cat, walking his mate to the medicine den. Whitewhisker stayed silent, only casting a small glance at Russetpelt before returning her attention to walking. The pair disappeared into the medicine den, and Otterkit looked up at his mother. Her amber gaze was fixed on where the two cats had disappeared, and Otterkit sighed softly, curling up in her paws.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW SO ITS BEEN A WHILE HUH... sorry about that I kinda. forgot this story existed for a while. so to make up for that im just mass posting the rest of the chapters rn, i hope you enjoy!!

Otterkit was fidgeting impatiently next to his mother, staring at the clearing in excitement. Greystar was standing in a hole high up the rock face, looking down at the gathered clan. Beneath the mostly sheer cliff was a large, flat area of stone for the cats to gather. Lilykit and Darkkit were sitting below him, Lilykit’s chest puffed out in pride while Darkkit stared at her paws. Even though they were only a few moons older than him, Otterkit had been too shy to talk to them much. Their mother was almost always asleep, so her kits spent very little time in the nursery to avoid waking her up. Otterkit had wanted to join them a couple of times, but Russetpelt told him he was too young to be roughhousing like that. 

Now they were becoming apprentices, and Otterkit’s pelt tingled with excitement. This was his first time seeing the entire clan gathered together like this, and he couldn’t believe how many cats were there. He looked at the mass of multi-coloured pelts and tried to name as many as he could. 

Boltstrike, the deputy, was easy to spot; his black and white pelt stood out as he sat below Greystar’s perch, facing the rest of the clan. He was watching his daughters intently, no emotions discernable on his face. There was Otterkit’s uncle Fireclaw, his flame coloured pelt almost identical to his sister’s. Fireclaw was sitting next to Shellbrook and Willowtail, their grey and white pelts a harsh contrast to Fireclaw’s ginger. A little ways away, the only current apprentice, Snowpaw, sat next to her mentor, Stubbytail. The pair were quite the sight; Snowpaw wasn't a large cat by any means, but her mentor was small enough to be an apprentice himself. Leafspot sat nearby, and Longtongue sat next to the elder’s den, her pink tongue sticking out between her jaws. 

“Cats of Rockclan, I gathered you here today so two kits can become apprentices, and begin their training to be warriors,” Greystar nodded down at Lilykit and Darkkit, Lilykit practically vibrating with excitement. The leader’s yellow gaze swept over the cats gathered below him, stopping on two cats. 

“Leopardleap, you will train Lilypaw. Speckleshine, you will train Darkpaw.” Leopardleap padded out of the crowd, his chest puffed out proudly. Speckleshine followed much more graciously, stopping in front of her new apprentice. Eagerly, Lilypaw touched noses with her mentor, and Leopardleap laughed, smiling. Darkpaw was much more reluctant, and it took a gentle nudge from Speckleshine for the black she-cat to touch her nose to her mentor’s. Otterkit’s gaze shifted to Boltstrike, who seemed slightly put off. Was he disappointed in Greystar’s choice of mentors? 

The clan chanted Darkpaw and Lilypaw’s new names, and Otterkit joined in, already forgetting about Boltstrike’s odd behaviour. As the cheering died down, a shocked gasp came from the back of the crowd. Otterkit turned towards the noise and stared in confusion as a dark grey figure stumbled into the camp. The cat slumped over onto her side, gasping. 

“Shadespot?” Leopardleap asked softly, padding away from his apprentice. Lilypaw followed him, looking between the new cat and her mentor. The cat, Shadespot, looked up, barely able to lift her head. She smiled shakily, and Otterkit’s eyes widened. 

It looked like her head had been stepped on. Where her ear was supposed to be was nothing but a shallow dip, and the skin was wrinkled strangely, fur sticking out in odd directions. Leopardleap didn’t seem to notice as he rushed towards the cat, falling down beside her and pressing his head against hers. Tears streamed down his face and he shook, a sob escaping him. 

“I thought you were gone!” he cried, smiling through his tears as he looked into Shadespot’s eyes. She was silent, but she smiled back, her eyes swimming with emotion. The rest of the clan watched in silence for a moment, before whispers began to ripple through it. 

“I thought she had returned to her twolegs-”

“What’s wrong with her head?” 

“Did the twolegs do that?” 

A brown she-cat suddenly forced her way through the crowd, shoving cats aside to reach the collapsed figure.

“Move Leopardleap, I need to check her,” she ordered, her voice harsh. Leopardleap obeyed regretfully, slowly moving away from Shadespot’s slumped form. The brown cat, Briartangle, helped Shadespot to her feet, bringing her to the medicine den, Leopardleap following close behind. A disgruntled Lilypaw tried to follow as well, but Briartangle stopped her, and Lilypaw stormed away from the medicine den. 

“Russetpelt, who is that?” Otterkit asked, looking up at his mother, who was still staring at where the strange cat had appeared. His voice seemed to pull her out of her thoughts, and she looked down at him. 

“That’s Shadespot. She’s Leopardleap’s mother,” Russetpelt explained, sweeping her tail around Otterkit, “A while ago, she got very ill. Briartangle didn’t know how to cure it, and she was in so much pain.” Her voice got softer for a moment, and Otterkit tilted his head to the side. 

“One day she just disappeared from the medicine den. Leopardleap desperately searched for her, but there was no trace of where she had gone. Most cats just assumed she either died or went back to Twolegplace.” Otterkit could feel his mother trembling, and he leaned into her, nuzzling his head into her foreleg.

After several moments with no word from the medicine den, cats began to disperse, returning to their duties. Suddenly, Briartangle padded out of her den, heading straight for Greystar, who had leapt down from his ledge. They exchanged hushed words before Greystar returned to his post, addressing the clan once more. 

“Shadespot’s return has been a shock, but we are grateful she is alright,” he looked down at the medicine den, where Leopardleap’s head was poking out, “She has two requests. One, to permanently move to the elder’s den, which she deserves. She fought alongside our clan for many moons, and despite her blood, she was as good as any Rockclan warrior; she deserves to retire peacefully.” 

Greystar pausing, inhaling deeply before he continued, “She also requests a more fitting name, as it is important to her that her clan name matches who she is. Her new name is Missingear. Not to highlight her weaknesses, but rather her strengths. She has been through more than most cats, and her injuries are a symbol of that.” Greystar dipped his head, and the clan erupted into cheers once more, calling out Missingear’s name. Otterkit didn’t join in this time, watching the entrance to the medicine den instead as Briartangle squeezed between the stones, vanishing into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 3

“Why don’t you play with Darkpaw and Lilypaw?” Beavertail asked, sitting down behind his son. Otterkit didn’t turn to face the brown tom, batting solemnly at the stick he’d been playing with. He was in his usual place, deep inside the tunnel that formed the nursery. The nests were moved here during winter to shelter them from the cold, but Russetpelt had let him play here while the area was empty. It was the only place she would let him play alone. 

“They’re apprentices now, they wouldn’t want to play with a kit,” Otterkit explained, his voice flat. The older she-cats had rarely played with him when they were denmates. 

“I think you’d be surprised, they’d probably appreciate a familiar face.” Beavertail smiled, his large paws shuffling on the stone floor. He quickly covered them up with his tail. 

Otterkit finally abandoned his stick, turning towards Beavertail. There was very little light this far down the tunnel, and the bright cave entrance was partially blocked by his father's bulky figure. All Otterkit could make out was the flashing yellow of Beavertail's eyes fixed firmly on him. With a defeated sigh, Otterkit padded past his father, scrabbling up the small rise in the cave floor. He remembered it used to be much harder to get up. 

“Alright. I'll see if they're even in camp,” Otterkit mumbled as Beavertail followed him to the nursery entrance. Russetpelt's nest was empty, which explained Beavertail's presence. A sneaking feeling that his father was just trying to get rid of him made his spine tingle, but he said nothing. Beavertail's avoidance was easier to deal with than his mother's constant worry. 

With a gentle nudge to encourage his son, Beavertail padded to the warrior's den, where Boltstrike and Leopardleap were sharing a squirrel. Jealousy pricked at the back of Otterkit’s mind, but he dismissed it with a flick of his tail, hurrying to the apprentice's den. 

The apprentices had the most shallow tunnel, and the entrance was fortified by moss and sticks to keep the wind out. Snowpaw had been glad to have the new bodies to help warm the small space. Hesitantly, Otterkit poked his nose through the entrance, amber eyes glinting in the darkness. There were no curled up shapes in the nests, and the scent was stale. With a sigh, Otterkit withdrew his head, looking around the camp. He spotted his father again, chatting with Leopardleap, and decided against returning to the nursery. 

It was still early in the morning, so cats were lounging in the late summer sun. While the rocks were excellent protection, the lack of shade made the summer heat almost unbearable during the day. Elders and kits stayed inside their cool dens while the rest of the clan took solace in the forest, waiting for the sun to go down again. Otterkit briefly remembered Longtongue telling him about a summer that had been so hot the rock burned cats’ paws. He picked up a paw, examining the dark fleshy pads. While they had grown used to the hard rock by now, Otterkit couldn’t imagine the ground burning them with every step. A sudden shriek startled him from his musing, and he perked his ears, looking in the direction of the sound.

Two cats suddenly sped past him, a blur of black and grey fur. Otterkit leapt back in shock, whipping his head around to follow the shapes. Darkpaw and Lilypaw were hurtling after a ball of moss, Lilypaw crying out in joy. She pounced on it, trapping it under her paws before launching it towards her sister. Darkpaw clawed it out of the air, trapping it under a single white paw. Only then did she notice that she was being watched. 

“Oh, hi Otterkit,” she mewed, stepping away from the moss ball awkwardly. Lilypaw took this as her opportunity, swiping the ball away. Otterkit watched idly, his tail flicking back and forth on the ground. Suddenly, his father’s advice came back to him, and he decided to try his luck. 

“Can I play?” he asked, standing up. Lilypaw stopped batting the moss around, looking up at him. 

“That’s ridiculous! You’re a kit,” she scoffed, wrinkling her nose. “Apprentices don’t play with kits!” 

Darkpaw turned her kind yellow gaze towards Otterkit, smiling gently. “That’s not fair Lilypaw, he’s only a couple moons younger than us. Why not let him join?” 

Both Otterkit and Lilypaw looked at the black she-cat with wide eyes, before Lilypaw groaned dramatically. 

“Fine! But only if he can keep up,” she teased, launching the moss ball at Otterkit. Caught off guard, he tried to swat it out of the air, reaching up on his hind legs. He missed, and his momentum dragged him downwards. Twisting in the air, Otterkit landed on his paws awkwardly, glaring at Lilypaw. 

“That wasn’t fair!” he hissed, lashing his tail. Darkpaw quickly went to fetch the discarded ball. 

“You’ll need to be faster next time,” Lilypaw pointed out, voice dripping with mockery. 

“Here,” Darkpaw mewed, nudging the ball towards Otterkit with a pointed glare at her sister. It was the harshest Otterkit had ever seen the nervous she-cat. Gratefully, Otterkit scooped up the ball, about to exact his revenge on Lilypaw when a harsh voice spoke from behind him. 

“Lilypaw! What are you doing playing with a kit?” Otterkit turned to face Boltstrike, his ears pressed flat against his head. The large black and white tom was glaring at his daughters, tail lashing. Despite calling Lilypaw’s name, his green gaze rested on Darkpaw, who suddenly became very interested in her paws. 

“We’re sorry Boltstrike,” Lilypaw mewed, suddenly stepping between her father’s glare and Darkpaw. “He insisted, we were just telling him to go away when you showed up.” She shot a warning glare at Otterkit, who hunched down further, trying to avoid the deputy’s attention. 

Boltstrike frowned, looking down at the apprentices. “You two shouldn’t even be in camp, you should be hunting or training. Go on!” He gave Lilypaw a nudge with his paw while Darkpaw immediately shot up, hurrying after her sister, head low. 

“Now,” Boltstrike’s gaze fixed on Otterkit, and he quickly looked away. “I’m sorry you had to see me get so angry, apprentices just have higher expectations,” Boltstrike explained, and Otterkit looked back up at him. 

The deputy smiled, “You’ll understand soon, you’re very close to being apprenticed yourself. Then you’ll get it. For now though, enjoy being a kit and go play. But don’t go distracting any apprentices again.” His tone shifted into a warning at the last sentence, and Otterkit nodded quickly, hurrying back to the nursery. He could still feel the large tom’s gaze on his back until he dove into the nursery tunnel, pelt spiked up.


	5. Chapter 4

Otterkit pushed his mother’s head away as she tried to groom him for the fifth time, glaring at her. They were the same size now, and Otterkit knew he would be the same size as Beavertail even though he lacked his father’s fluff. 

“Oh, stop fussing! You need to look your best,” Russetpelt explained, dragging Otterkit closer to her with a paw. He wiggled out from underneath her again, hopping out of her reach. 

“I look fine! If you groom me anymore I’d look smoother than a pebble.” Otterkit swiped at his ears, trying to get the fur to stick up like it normally did. Having his pelt so smooth was strangely uncomfortable.

Russetpelt sighed, her amber eyes forlorn as she watched her son. “I know, I’m sorry,” she paused for a moment, smiling as tears gathered in her eyes, “I’ll miss you. You’ve grown up so fast.” 

This made Otterkit soften and he padded forward, pressing his head against his mother’s. “I’m not going anywhere,” he purred, giving her head a gentle lick. Russetpelt only nodded, trying to hold back her tears as Greystar called the clan together. Casting one more look at the ginger she-cat, Otterkit hurried to the center of the clearing, taking his seat next to Snowpaw. 

“Excited?” The silver she-cat asked, glancing over at him, “It’s not every day you become an apprentice.” 

“Not as excited as you are I bet,” Otterkit replied casually. He had never talked to Snowpaw much before, and he looked the she-cat up and down. She was on the small side, sleek silver tabby pelt clinging to her sides and stark white face staring up at Greystar. Otterkit followed her gaze, waiting for the leader to speak. 

Snowpaw was first, receiving her warrior name, Snowspeckle. The clan cheered for her, and Otterkit nodded as she walked past him towards the other warriors. 

“We also have a new apprentice to announce,” Greystar continued after the cheering calmed down, looking down at Otterkit. “Otterkit, your mentor will be Willowtail.” 

Otterkit eagerly scanned the clan, waiting for his mentor to greet him. He spotted the white tom walking through the crowd, and he grinned eagerly. Willowtail was an older warrior, well on his way to retirement, but Otterkit knew he was as brave and strong as any young cat. 

“Willowtail, may you teach Otterpaw your patience and understanding. I know you’ll be an amazing mentor.” With a nod of his head, Greystar leaped down from his perch, giving Otterpaw a congratulatory nod before he disappeared into his den. 

“Hello Otterpaw,” Willowtail mewed, his blue eyes sparkling. He touched Otterpaw’s nose to his own.

“You got big!” Lilypaw called, running over, closely followed by her mentor. Leopardleap looked Otterpaw up and down, a seemingly perpetual scowl plastered on his face. Otterpaw laughed awkwardly, surprised by the sudden attention. Other than his parents, most cats hadn’t spared him a second glance before now. 

“So, should we take you out training for the first time Otterpaw?” Willowtail asked, his grey tail flicking amusedly. 

“He should join us for battle training!” Lilypaw cried, looking up at Leopardleap eagerly. Leopardleap was about to protest when Willowtail cut him off. 

“Sure, that sounds perfect,” he mewed, voice smooth. He cast Leopardleap a pointed look and the younger tom shut his jaws, rolling his eyes. Willowtail ignored him, beckoning with his tail for Otterpaw to follow.

The training grounds were one of the few parts of Rockclan territory that were flat. Most of the territory was cut open by massive boulders and stones, surrounded by lush green vegetation. However, any small rocks here had been dug up and moved, leaving only a large mossy clearing. The soft ground made it perfect for battle training and the raised sides lowered the risk of cats accidentally rolling onto a stone. 

“Now, we’ll start with Lilypaw and Otterpaw,” Willowtail mewed, sitting on the side of the clearing. Lilypaw leapt down, paws bouncing as she landed on the squishy moss. Her green eyes fixed themselves on Otterpaw, sparkling with a challenge. 

“Wait, Lilypaw should be training with someone at her experience level!” Leopardleap protested, stomping over to Willowtail. 

“Otterpaw needs to learn as well Leopardleap, and they’re only a few moons apart,” Willowtail mewed calmly, resting his gaze on his apprentice. Darkpaw and Speckleshine had joined them shortly before they had arrived, and Speckleshine voiced her approval. Leopardleap lashed his tail, glaring at Otterpaw before taking a seat on the opposite side of the clearing. 

“Otterpaw, you attack Lilypaw. Lilypaw, dodge him,” Willowtail ordered, and Otterpaw leapt at the she-cat without a second thought. 

Lilypaw had been focused on their mentors and didn’t have enough time to dodge out of Otterpaw’s way. Otterpaw barrelled into her, his larger size knocking her over easily. The grey she-cat let out a small yelp, falling to the ground under Otterpaw’s weight. His paws were pressing into her chest, and he realized with horror his claws had unsheathed. He quickly leapt off of her, sheathing his claws. Lilypaw glared at him, and Otterpaw’s eyes widened when he saw a thin red line cutting across her cheek. 

“Lilypaw!” Leopardleap shouted, jumping into the clearing and hurrying over to her. He whipped around, snarling at Otterpaw. “What’s wrong with you?!” He snapped, and Otterpaw took a step back. Willowtail leapt between them, blue gaze fixed on Otterpaw. 

“We never unsheath our claws during training,” he scolded, before his gaze calmed, “I'm sorry I forgot to make that clear to you, I assumed you knew.”

“He needs to be punished!” Leopardleap growled, stalking over to Willowtail, “He injured my apprentice!” 

“Stop worrying Leopardleap, I’m fine,” Lilypaw cut in, padding over to the arguing toms. She flashed Otterpaw a huge grin. “I never thought you could be that fast! I’ll have to keep a better watch next time.” She winked, and Otterpaw gaped. 

Willowtail looked between the two apprentices, “No claws during training. Understand?” Both Lilypaw and Otterpaw nodded, and Lilypaw hurried over to Darkpaw to show off her new wound. 

“Do you think it’ll scar?” She asked, and Darkpaw shrugged, casting a worried glance at Otterpaw while her sister prattled on.


	6. Chapter 5

Leopardleap nudged Lilypaw up the side of the training area, despite her protests, insisting she needed to see Briartangle. Otterpaw watched with mild amusement as Lilypaw complained, glaring at her mentor. 

“All brave warriors need to visit the medicine den, Lilypaw,” Boltstrike’s voice suddenly cut off his daughter’s, and the cats in the clearing turned to look at where he had appeared. 

“Bravery doesn’t stop bleeding,” the black and white tom purred, leaping down the ledge with ease. Lilypaw scrambled away from Leopardleap, hurrying over to her father. He looked at the small scratch on her cheek, giving it a soothing lick. “I doubt it will scar, but we don’t want it getting infected.” The tom leaned over, whispering something into Lilypaw’s ear. Her face dropped for a moment, but it quickly recovered its previous excitement. 

“Of course!” She chirped, nodding her head. Her gaze fell on Otterpaw, a challenging glint in her eye. Otterpaw returned the look, whiskers twitching playfully. This made Lilypaw giggle, and she eagerly padded towards him, abandoning her father. 

“You just got lucky, that won’t happen again,” she promised as she reached him, and Otterpaw rolled his eyes. His gaze was drawn towards Boltstrike, who was walking over to Darkpaw and Speckleshine. The tiny black she-cat was practically hiding behind her mentor, and Speckleshine’s blue eyes narrowed as the tom approached them. 

“No Boltstrike, we only just started,” Speckleshine’s curt voice reached his ears, and he glanced over Lilypaw’s shoulder at the three cats. 

“I see. I imagine she’s too small to fight Otterpaw anyway, that was a wise choice,” Boltstrike mewed, dipping his head at the tortoiseshell she-cat. Lilypaw suddenly tensed, and Otterpaw looked over to see her gaze was locked on the conversation as well. 

Speckleshine’s tail twitched, but she kept a smile on her face despite the malice twinkling in her eyes. “Willowtail only wanted to burn off some of Lilypaw’s energy first,” she explained, glancing over at the aforementioned tom, who nodded in agreement. 

“I see.” Boltstrike glanced around Speckleshine at Darkpaw, who had successfully avoided detection until now. She quickly ducked her head, fixing her yellow gaze on her paws. “May I speak with my daughter in private?” he asked, authority tinging his mew. 

Speckleshine lifted her head, staring up at the larger cat. Defiance glimmered in her eyes, and Otterpaw shuffled his feet. Tension radiated from the two cats, reaching all the cats in the clearing.

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Speckleshine mewed simply, and the hair on Boltstrike’s spine rose. For a moment, Otterpaw thought he would attack her. But his fur flattened as quickly as it had risen, and Boltstrike smiled cheerfully. 

“We should probably head back to camp,” Willowtail’s voice cut through the awkwardness like a claw, and every cat in the clearing turned to look at him. “Lilypaw needs to get her wounds treated, and I can introduce Otterpaw to some of the more menial apprentice duties.” 

Boltstrike and the other mentors agreed, and the cats hurried out of the clearing, back towards camp. Lilypaw disappeared from Otterpaw’s side, hurrying over to Darkpaw. The pair exchanged a hushed conversation, out of earshot of any cat. Otterpaw followed in the back of the group, his head hanging. 

“I want you to check on the elders and see if their bedding needs changing,” Willowtail mewed upon their return to the camp, turning to face his apprentice as Lilypaw hurried to the medicine den. Darkpaw and Speckleshine were speaking quietly, and Darkpaw seemed to cheer up a little, following her mentor out of camp. As they passed, Speckleshine quickly explained they were going hunting and would be back before nightfall. 

Sighing softly, Otterpaw kicked a pebble as he walked to the elder’s den, watching it skitter across the stone. The den was at the other end of the camp, far away from the entrance. It was next to the nursery, and Otterpaw felt a pang of nostalgia as he passed it. He knew the nursery was empty at the moment, but it looked warm and inviting nonetheless. Grey clouds covered the sun, even obscuring the looming figures of the nearby mountains. The chill of the incoming winter tickled Otterpaw’s fur, and he shivered, quickly ducking into the den. 

Inside, the elder’s den smelled of rotting moss. Otterpaw wrinkled his nose as he stood in the entrance, carefully stepping down the stone path. Unlike most of the dens that had a steep incline at the entrance, the elder’s den had been specially fitted with easy pawholds. Walking around on the rocks was difficult enough on old joints, and Otterpaw imagined the elders appreciated the thoughtfulness of their ancestors. 

“Ah, hello Otterpaw,” a voice rasped from the darkness, and Otterpaw could make out a tan pelt as his eyes adjusted. Next to the she-cat was another nest, this one holding the tightly curled up body of Missingear, fidgeting occasionally as she slept. 

The rank scent worsened as he approached the other elder, Longtongue, and he resisted the urge to gag. Longtongue smiled gently at him, her amber gaze soft. Otterpaw could just barely make out the pink of her tongue poking through her jaws. 

“I’m sorry little one, my nest needs changing more than most and I didn't wanna bother you young cats,” she mewed, lifting her chin, “You apprentices are always so busy, I'm sure your other duties are more important than cleaning up after an old she-cat like me.” As she moved, Otterpaw spotted a dark patch of moss below where her head had been. It continued down her chin, making her neck fur sticky and damp. 

“This darn thing, can’t seem to keep it in my mouth,” Longtongue purred, attempting to lap at her chest fur. The movement was awkward, the she-cats tongue flailing almost uselessly as she tried to clean herself off. “It’s always the worst when I sleep for too long, and I don’t want to bother Missingear with it. She’s always so tired herself, poor thing.” 

Otterpaw was silent as the elder rambled, pulling the damp moss away from her with his paw, cringing as he felt the wetness. Trying to be polite, he resisted the urge to wipe the saliva off on the ground. Despite his disgust, he had fond memories of the elder. When he was a kit she would visit Whitewhisker and her daughters, and Longtongue had always included him. However, her visits became more infrequent after she retired, and soon they stopped altogether. Otterpaw recalled Whitewhisker had started leaving the nursery more around the same time, and Darkkit and Lilykit stopped wanting to play with him. 

“I’ll bring you some fresh bedding soon,” Otterpaw mewed over his shoulder as he rolled the tarnished moss out of the den, refusing to pick it up in his jaws. A pang of guilt crossed his heart as he remembered how well the elder had treated him, and he reminded himself to change her bedding more often. Longtongue smiled as he left, quickly returning to awkwardly lapping her fur.


	7. Chapter 6

The full moon shone brightly in the night sky, illuminating the barren rocks and sparkling river nearby. Cats were gathered around the camp entrance, and Otterpaw hurried to join them, followed closely by his mentor. He was the only Rockclan apprentice going to this gathering, and his pelt prickled with excitement. Willowtail smiled at him as they joined the group of gathered cats, slowly funnelling through the camp entrance. The narrow tunnel provided protection, but it was a hassle to leave in large groups like this. 

Otterpaw followed obediently, keeping as close to the front of the group as possible. The roaring of the river reached his ears, and Otterpaw peered over Greystar’s shoulder. In the distance he could see the rapids, white tongues crashing over each other and splashing over the cliff face. Just the sight of them made his spine tingle; those waves could easily pull a cat under, smashing them into the rocks beneath. Above them were massive, sheer cliffs, split open with wide ravines. Scraggly trees and bushes clung to the rock’s surface wherever they could, some of them tipped over, perpendicular to the water. There was a particularly large split in the cliff, where it looked like there had been a rockslide. It was filled with boulders, creating a steep slope that began somewhere in the forest above. Before Otterpaw could ask about it, the clan had turned the opposite direction, padding along the river bank. 

The sudden appearance of the other two clans completely removed any thoughts of the cliff, and he stared in awe at the seemingly endless amount of cats merging with his own. Rockclan territory was closest to the Gathering Falls, so the other clans followed the river across their territory to reach it, meeting up along the way. The strong scent of spruce needles and dirt filled his nose, and he quickly leapt out of the way of a pretty Mossclan she-cat who was forcing her way to the front of the group. A large black tom followed closely behind her. The Iceclan cats smelled of fish and water; they were much more polite as their leader made his way to the front. He was a small tom, his stocky legs making it hard for him to keep up with the other, significantly taller, clan leaders. His nose was oddly broad and flat, causing his breath to come in shallow wheezes. 

“The small tom is Waspstar, and the she-cat is Mirrorstar,” Willowtail helpfully whispered, and Otterpaw nodded. “The scary looking tom is Batear, Mirrorstar’s deputy.” As if he heard them, Batear’s head suddenly swivelled backwards, and the tom’s bright yellow gaze settled on Otterpaw, who’s fur lifted instinctually. 

Willowtail chuckled, smoothing Otterpaw’s fur down with his tail. “Remember, this is a truce. No fighting.” 

The sound of roaring water suddenly reached Otterpaw’s ears, drowning out the conversations around him. This caused the cats to fall silent, turning their attention to the small rocky ledge in front of them. The leaders were already climbing the rocks, their glossy pelts shimmering in the moonlight. Other cats quickly followed them, and Otterpaw stayed close behind Willowtail, watching his movements and copying them. Most of the rocks were fairly small, but some were quite a leap, and Otterpaw watched as some of the smaller cats were lifted up them. A young Mossclan apprentice snarled as another cat tried to help him, scrabbling with his hind legs to try and drag himself up. 

“Flypaw! You’re holding up the entire gathering,” a gruff voice suddenly called, and Batear came leaping down the rock pile. He dwarfed the small silver cat, making him look more like a kit than an apprentice. With a quick movement, he grabbed Flypaw’s scruff, practically throwing him onto the rock above them. Flypaw let out a tiny squeak as he landed, quickly scrabbling to his paws. 

“Sorry Batear!” He called, easily leaping up the next couple of stones and disappearing over the other side. Batear rolled his eyes, hurrying after the apprentice. Some of the other cats chuckled with amusement, Willowtail among them. 

The rest of the cats made it over the ridge without fuss, and Otterpaw dropped down the other side, landing solidly on all four paws. In front of him, Otterpaw finally found the source of the roaring. A waterfall cascaded down the cliffs, previously hidden by the ridge. It tumbled into a pool that trickled out into the river beyond. From what he could see, the pool was fairly shallow, except for a deep well directly below the current, and some inquisitive apprentices had already begun wading through it. Otterpaw was tempted to go join them, even at night the summer heat still permeated the stone beneath his paws. Some older cats waded across it to the other side, sitting on the smooth rock that lined the entire area. Large stones lined the edges of the clearing, and Otterpaw realized they had climbed the shortest section of the cliffs. There was plenty of room for all three clans, and Otterpaw took his place next to Willowtail. 

All three leaders sat on different ledges near the waterfall, high above the rest of the clans. Waspstar was sitting closest to the splashing water, his round ears flicking occasionally as water droplets hit them. The deputies sat on the ground beneath them, facing the rest of their clanmates. However, one spot was empty and Otterpaw realized the Iceclan deputy was nowhere to be found. 

A loud cry from Mirrorstar made the crowd fall silent, apart from the constant roar of the waterfall. Otterpaw was amazed at how the leaders were able to speak above the echoing sound. 

“Mossclan has had much luck this moon. We have a new warrior; a young she-cat named Squirreltail,” Mirrorstar paused as the cats cheered, “As well as four new apprentices: Fadedpaw, Cracklepaw, Troutpaw and Flypaw.” The cats cheered again, and Otterpaw spotted Flypaw in the crowd staring sheepishly at his paws. 

Waspstar spoke next, announcing the apprenticeship of Sandpaw and Adderpaw, as well as the news that they were expecting new kits. Greystar stepped forward, congratulating Mossclan on their new apprentices. His failure to mention Iceclan made Waspstar’s amber gaze darken from his seat behind the other leader. Snowspeckle’s warrior name was announced, as well as Otterpaw’s apprenticeship. The leader’s yellow gaze made Otterpaw’s pelt prickle, and he flattened his ears as the cats around him cheered his name. 

The gathering ended quickly, and the cats once again scrambled over the rock pile. Otterpaw noticed Flypaw didn’t complain this time as he was lifted over the rocks by the Mossclan deputy. None of the leaders spoke as they lead their clans away, despite the abundant conversation behind them. Boltstrike and Batear were whispering softly to each other. 

“Hey! You’re the new Rockclan apprentice right?” A voice suddenly asked, and Otterpaw turned to find two Iceclan apprentices running over to him.

“Yea, and who are you?” He asked sharply.

“I’m Adderpaw,” the brown tabby mewed, “And this is Sandpaw.” He flicked his tail at the dark ginger tom walking next to him. 

Regretfully, Otterpaw slowed his pace so he was walking alongside the two apprentices, making it easier to talk to them. 

“What’s it like being in Rockclan?” Sandpaw asked, sniffing Otterpaw’s side. Otterpaw pulled away instantly, baring his teeth in a snarl. Sandpaw quickly leapt back, yellow eyes wide. 

“I don’t know, what’s it like being in Iceclan?” Otterpaw snapped, tail lashing. Why were these mousebrains trying to find out how Rockclan operated? 

Adderpaw seemed to take this as an invitation to gossip, and loudly exclaimed, “Oh, there’s so much going on! We have a cat who can’t get apprenticed ‘cause they got bitten by a rabbit.” Sandpaw snickered. 

“Yeah! It kinda sucks though, they’re sister got apprenticed a moon ago while they were stuck in the medicine den. Honestly, I think Moonspot is the biggest reason they haven’t been apprenticed yet, she’s always thought of them as a disappointment.” Otterpaw was about to snap at the Iceclan apprentice to shut up when a new voice did it for him. 

“Ha! Leave it to a kittypet to spill his clan’s secrets,” A she-cat snarked, and Otterpaw scented Mossclan as she hurried over to the group. “What, did no cats get injured in Twolegplace? You’re not used to violence?” She sneered, her striped tail flicking behind her. 

“We never even went to Twolegplace!” Adderpaw retorted, his fur bushing up. The four apprentices suddenly stopped, Sandpaw and Adderpaw glaring at the Mossclan apprentice as she continued to taunt them. 

“It doesn’t matter, kittypet blood is kittypet blood. You’ll never be fit to be warriors,” The she-cat snarked, a sly grin on her face as her blue eyes narrowed, her hackles rising. 

“Hey! What do you four think you’re doing?!” Leopardleap’s cry made Otterpaw’s fur flatten with relief as the golden tom suddenly appeared from where the rest of the clan cats had vanished. His eyes fell on the Mossclan apprentice, narrowing sharply. 

“You three are going to get left behind. Your clans are returning to their territory,” he growled at the three from the other clans. Casting a victorious smirk at Adderpaw and Sandpaw, the Mossclan apprentice hurried off. 

“And make sure you tell them a kittypet was the one who gave you trouble!” Leopardleap called after her, his long tail lashing. Adderpaw and Sandpaw gaped at the older warrior, a questioning look in their eyes. “Well? Get going!” Leopardleap snapped at them, and the pair quickly hurried off, vanishing behind some large rocks. Leopardleap’s green gaze suddenly fell on Otterpaw, and he opened his mouth to speak. 

“Don’t bother,” Leopardleap cut him off, padding towards the camp, “I’ll let Willowtail deal with you.”


	8. Chapter 7

Otterpaw glanced over at the she-cat walking beside him, a relaxed smile on his face. He and Darkpaw had been selected for a border patrol, and Otterpaw’s pelt prickled with excitement, although Darkpaw didn’t seem to share this enthusiasm. Along with them were their mentors, Speckleshine and Willowtail, as well as Fireclaw and Stubbytail. The latter was at the back of the group, his short stature giving him some trouble. Fireclaw slowed his steps, letting the apprentices pad past him until he was walking alongside Stubbytail.

“I don’t get why they insist I go on patrol with the biggest oafs in the clan!” Stubbytail mewed, the stump of his tail twitching in amusement. There was no real hostility in his voice and Fireclaw laughed. The small cat was right; Fireclaw and his nephew practically dwarfed him. Even Darkpaw was slightly taller than the tan tabby. Otterpaw chuckled as well at the comment, throwing a playful glare over his shoulder. Stubbytail responded by sticking his tongue out, which threw Fireclaw into a fit of laughter. 

“It’s ‘cause the other clans will think you're a mouse and won’t suspect it when you attack!” Fireclaw teased, batting Stubbytail’s ear. From the front of the group, Willowtail watched the interaction warmly, whiskers twitching. 

“Come on you two, focus. Border patrols aren’t for flirting.” Willowtail scolded playfully. Speckleshine giggled, flicking Fireclaw’s nose with the tip of her tail as the group returned to walking. 

“Even warriors aren’t above silly comments,” Otterpaw mewed, hoping to prompt some sort of conversation out of Darkpaw. She hadn’t spoken during the shenanigans, although her shoulders relaxed slightly. Darkpaw seemed to live in a constant state of anxiety, her body always tense and her ears swivelling, searching for any noise or threats. Her yellow gaze met his and she nodded, but that was the only response he got to his comment. Otterpaw slowed his pace a little and Darkpaw did the same, a quizzical look appearing on her face. 

He waited until the other cats were out of earshot but still within sight to softly mew, “You’ve finally relaxed around me.” It was a statement in case she didn’t want to reply, and Otterpaw let out a silent sigh of relief when Darkpaw spoke. 

“It must be Lilypaw’s influence,” she murmured, a thoughtful look on her face, “She seems to like you.”

Otterpaw’s eyes widened and he felt his face warm slightly. The two apprentices fell into a comfortable silence then. While he still had more questions for the she-cat, now felt like the wrong time to ask. They reached the border without any fanfare and the strong scent of Iceclan made Otterpaw’s nose wrinkle. He and Darkpaw hurried to catch up to the rest of the group, Speckleshine giving her apprentice a quizzical look. 

Otterpaw padded over to his mentor, who was sniffing along the ground. The older cat’s ears were pressed flat against his head, and his eyes were narrowed. On this side of the river, the Iceclan border was marked by the beginning of the spruce forest. Rockclan had the small patch of grassland above the cliffs and as the ground dipped towards the river spruce trees began appearing, quickly creating a thick forest. Otterpaw inhaled deeply, opening his mouth to detect the scents. He quickly realized why Willowtail was so tense; Mossclan scent accompanied Iceclan's. Willowtail called the rest of the patrol over with a flick of his long grey tail. 

Fireclaw bared his teeth as he padded over, hackles rising, “Those fleabags! They can’t just cross our territory without permission!” he snarled. Stubbytail stood beside the ginger tom, his gaze betraying his worry. 

“Let's not jump to any conclusions yet-” Willowtail’s firm voice was cut off by the rustling of the nearby spruce trees. Three cats stepped out, their gazes sharp. The scent of Mossclan grew stronger, and the Rockclan patrol turned to face the new cats, standing close by each other. Something touched the side of his pelt, and Otterpaw looked over to see Darkpaw pressed against him, her eyes wide and fearful. 

“Batear,” Willowtail mewed, dipping his head respectfully. The massive black tom at the front of the group curled his lip, yellow gaze burning with barely contained rage. In contrast, Willowtail was calm, and he sat patiently, tucking his tail over his paws. “Lovely day, isn’t it? Summer has treated us well.” 

“Stop with the pleasantries Willowtail. This isn't a gathering,” Batear snarled, digging his claws into the needle covered ground. Otterpaw felt his hackles rising and he pressed his ears flat, resisting the urge to curl his lip at the Mossclan cat’s rudeness. They were the ones trespassing, Batear should be grateful Willowtail was being so passive! Slight fear inched into the back of his head as he scanned both patrols; the Mossclan cats were outnumbered, but they were all massive, and they had no apprentices with them. The largest of them all was a she-cat with an oddly shaped head, her thin pelt showing off her rippling muscles. She was standing protectively in front of a tabby tom, although it didn’t look like he needed much protection. They were both riddled with scars, a testament to the experience they had. 

Otterpaw saw Willowtail’s ear flick, but that was the only sign of agitation the tom showed. His blue gaze was patient as it scanned the Mossclan patrol, and Otterpaw could practically hear his brain working. 

“You're right, there is no gathering tonight,” he mewed, “So why are you on our territory?.” 

“They were stealing prey! There’s no other reason!” Fireclaw hissed suddenly, raising the fur along his spine and lashing his tail. 

“Why would we hunt here? Do we look like pathetic fish-brains?” The tan tom snapped back, shoving his way past the she-cat in front of him until he was face to face with Fireclaw. 

“Fireclaw, that’s enough! Batear, get control of your warriors! We’re not here to fight. There's no proof they were stealing anything” Willowtail snapped, standing up with a lash of his tail. Fireclaw bared his teeth at the Mossclan warrior one final time before backing off, moving back to stand with Stubbytail who gave him a reassuring lick. 

“Cougarclaw, get over here. You’re in no condition to fight,” the strange looking she-cat shouted, her anger suddenly replaced by concern, "You shouldn't even be on this patrol," she shot Batear a harsh look at her words. Cougarclaw grumbled under his breath but obeyed, returning to the brown she-cat’s side. Otterpaw noticed a slight swell in the tom’s belly and blinked, wondering what he was doing out of camp. Shouldn’t he be in the nursery by now? No wonder the she-cat was so worried.

Batear met Willowtail's icy gaze and a moment of tense silence passed between the two toms. It would be ridiculous for Mossclan to fight when they were being offered an easy out, not to mention the heavily pregnant cat in their group, but Otterpaw flexed his claws nevertheless. "We were merely traveling to Iceclan to get herbs," Batear started and Fireclaw moved to protest,"And the designated path along the river bank was partially flooded." Fireclaw's jaws shut with a click, his eyes burning with indignance. 

"Protecting my clanmates is my top priority," Batear glanced at the brown she-cat, who was worriedly whispering to Cougarclaw behind him, "They are more important than whether or not I wound Rockclan's pride. Do you have a problem with that?" Batear's voice dripped with challenge and his unsheathed claws glinted in the sun. 

"That was a wise decision," Willowtail mewed coolly, dipping his head towards the Mossclan patrol, "I admire your loyalty to your clan, Batear. You are free to return to your territory the way you came." 

Batear narrowed his eyes for a moment before he nodded, resheathing his claws and calling his warriors over. They padded past the Rockclan patrol and Otterpaw growled when Cougarclaw bumped into him, meeting the warrior's gaze without fear. Cougarclaw responded with a snort, dismissing the apprentice with a flick of his tail and returning his attention to the brown she-cat, who was glaring disapprovingly. 

Otterpaw let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as the Mossclan scent faded away. The rest of the patrol did the same and Willowtail padded over to join them. 

“We'll follow a little ways behind them to ensure Batear remains true to his word,” Willowtail mewed, his voice grim. The cats nodded, tension hanging in the air as they carefully followed the Mossclan scent. Otterpaw hung his head, reminiscing the lost camaraderie from the beginning of the day.


	9. Chapter 8

Otterpaw hurried over to the camp entrance as Lilypaw squeezed through it, his heart pounding. He barely managed to stop in time, almost plowing into her. She chuckled, deftly leaping out of his way. 

“So? How’d it go?” he asked, looking her up and down. Leopardleap suddenly forced his way between them, heading straight for Greystar’s den. Lilypaw laughed, watching her mentor fondly while Otterpaw glared as the golden tabby tom padded off. 

“I guess we’ll find out soon,” Lilypaw mewed, turning her attention back to Otterpaw, “Is Darkpaw back yet? I wanna tell her about the huge fish I almost caught! What about Boltstrike?” 

Her questions bombarded Otterpaw, and he laughed awkwardly, licking the top of Lilypaw’s head. “Calm down, they’ll be back soon. Boltstrike would never miss his daughter’s warrior ceremony right?” 

Lilypaw paused for a moment before she nodded in agreement, some of her excitement lost. Otterpaw internally cursed, knowing he had said something wrong. “Come on, let's go grab something to eat. You must be starving after almost catching a fish.” He teased, resting his tail across Lilypaw’s grey shoulders. This made her smile again and she followed him to the freshkill pile, chatting idly about what Leopardleap had tested her on.

The two apprentices ate together, Otterpaw laughing at the stupid jokes Lilypaw told about her mentor. Their tails were twined together, and Otterpaw felt his chest warm. Leopardleap suddenly appeared from the leader’s den and Lilypaw lifted her head, excitement glittering in her green gaze. However, the tom didn’t come over to her, padding into the warrior’s den instead. Disappointment made Lilypaw’s shoulders slump, and Otterpaw quickly reassured her that Leopardleap probably wasn’t allowed to say if she had passed or not. 

Before Lilypaw could respond, a pained wail echoed through the camp and her gaze shot to the camp entrance. Boltstrike padded through it, a dark shape draped over his back. 

“Oh Starclan, what have I done?!” Speckleshine screamed as she ran into the camp behind the deputy, her pelt spiked in distress as she hurried to Boltstrike’s side. Lilypaw suddenly bolted from Otterpaw’s side, and it was then that he realized what the shape on Boltstrike’s back was. 

“Darkpaw!” Lilypaw wailed, and cats began poking their heads out of their dens in confusion. Otterpaw followed Lilypaw slowly, his amber eyes wide with horror. 

Boltstrike dropped the black she-cat’s body in the middle of the camp, his eyes dark. Her fur was matted with blood, and Otterpaw could see a deep slice through her neck. The wound was still bleeding, and the fur on Boltstrike’s back was stained red as well. A small pool quickly formed beneath Darkpaw’s body, and her yellow eyes stared forward vacantly. Lilypaw threw herself onto her sister’s body, burying her face into the bloodstained fur to muffle her sobs. Murmurs drifted through the clan as cats began to gather around the grieving apprentice. 

Greystar shoved his way through the crowd, his voice grim as he asked what happened. Speckleshine had gone silent and was staring at Darkpaw’s body, but the leader’s voice snapped her out of her stupor. “I lost track of her, I wasn’t paying attention and suddenly she was gone. I found Boltstrike with her body,” Speckleshine shuddered violently as she explained, her voice breaking. Tears began streaming down her cheeks and she fell silent, staring down at her paws. Fireclaw hurried over, guiding her away from the crowd and towards the medicine den. Briartangle appeared shortly after, a bundle of herbs in her jaws as she padded towards the gathered cats. 

“Boltstrike? What happened?” Greystar asked, turning his attention to the deputy as Briartangle shoved Lilypaw away, snapping for someone to hold the wailing apprentice back. Leopardleap grabbed her scruff, pulling her a safe distance away as her cries of protest died down, replaced by gentle crying. Otterpaw didn’t know what to do. The desire to comfort his friend tugged his heart, but his paws were frozen in place. He realized he wanted nothing more than to curl up at Russetpelt’s belly, disappearing in his mother’s warmth and comfort. 

“I uh,” Boltstrike coughed, his body trembling slightly, “I found her deep in the spruce forest, a coyote over her body. I chased it away but… It was too late.” The tom’s green gaze fell on Darkpaw’s body, his eyes empty. 

“There’s coyote fur between her claws,” Briartangle called from where she was cleaning Darkpaw’s body, plucking a piece of brown fur from between Darkpaw’s toes. Greystar sniffed it, nodding his head. He called Willowtail over and ordered him to take a patrol out to check the territory for any signs that the coyote was still here. Willowtail nodded, casting one last look at Boltstrike before going to gather cats, finally drawing their attention away. 

Briartangle pulled away from Darkpaw’s body, announcing that she was done with the preparations and that they could mourn her properly. Bell-shaped flowers scattered Darkpaw’s pelt, their purple colour a harsh contrast to the she-cat’s black fur. Most of the blood had been cleaned away with damp moss, and Darkpaw’s eyes had been closed. Briartangle had even rearranged her body so it looked like she was sleeping, the deep slice in her neck hidden by her front paws and tail. 

Whitewhisker suddenly emerged from the warrior’s den, her amber gaze sorrowful. Longtongue rushed over to her, but she said nothing as she pushed past the elder, padding towards the motionless corpse. Laying down next to Darkpaw and wrapping her thin tail around her daughter’s body, Whitewhisker rested her chin on Darkpaw’s shoulder, her gaze hollow. No tears fell from her eyes as she lay there, unmoving and staring blankly into the distance. Lilypaw didn’t acknowledge her mother’s presence, her face buried in Darkpaw’s belly fur. Otterpaw waited for Boltstrike to join the rest of his family, but the black and white tom turned away, slipping out of the camp entrance. Greystar watched him go, his broad face unreadable. 

Deciding it was inappropriate for him to mourn alongside Darkpaw’s family, Otterpaw sat several tail lengths away, his tail wrapped around his paws as he stared vacantly at Darkpaw’s corpse. Several other cats sat nearby, including Speckleshine and Longtongue. Cats who were in Otterpaw’s position. They weren’t close enough to Darkpaw to condone sitting with her family, but they wanted to show their respects regardless. 

The sudden appearance of a warm body startled Otterpaw, and he looked over to find his mother’s warm amber gaze on him. She said nothing, merely sitting beside Otterpaw, her bushy tail wrapped around his larger body. Blinking, Otterpaw was surprised as he noticed silent tears trailing down his face. His mother leaned over, lapping them away as he started to shudder, eventually letting a sob escape him as he tore his gaze away from Darkpaw, burying his face in Russetpelt’s warm shoulder.


	10. Chapter 9

Morning came, and Otterpaw blinked awake, lifting his head from his mother’s shoulder. Orange light bathed the camp, the long shadows from the stone walls covering only the body of Darkpaw and her family. Guilt pricked at Otterpaw’s pelt when he realized he fell asleep, but Russetpelt’s comforting words ebbed it slightly. His mother didn’t leave his side as he watched Longtongue stand, padding towards the center of camp. The elder whispered something to Whitewhisker and the she-cat slowly stood. When the elder moved to Lilypaw the apprentice let out a hiss of protest, wrapping her paws over Darkpaw’s sides. Longtongue looked to Whitewhisker for help, but the she-cat was already disappearing into the warrior's den. With a sigh, Longtongue went back to nudging Lilypaw, who eventually gave in to her exhaustion and relented her grip on her sister. 

The cold stone stuck to the bottom of his paws for a moment as Otterpaw stood. Quickly saying goodbye to his mother, Otterpaw hurried over as Longtongue struggled to pick up the apprentice’s body. While it was a tradition for the elders to bury their clanmates, Longtongue didn’t seem to mind the help as Otterpaw carefully picked up Darkpaw, resting her body on his shoulders. He looked over at Lilypaw, who was still staring at the small red stain where Darkpaw’s body had been. His heart ached to comfort her, but he had a job to do. Turning towards the entrance, Longtongue followed him out of the camp towards the nearby burial ground. 

The site was only a short walk away, deep in the spruce forests that surrounded them. Seasons here were different than most forests; there were few broad-leafed trees that turned scarlet as the air chilled. Instead, dark green spruce trees made up the forest, their colour never changing as winter approached. They stayed as stubborn and unyielding as the cats who lived beneath them, refusing to change despite nature's harshness. There was a large spruce tree sat in a small clearing, and beneath it sat the graves of generations of Rockclan cats, each one marked by a wildflower. Otterpaw mindlessly followed Longtongue into the small clearing, barely noticing the weight on his back. 

“Dig there, two tail lengths deep,” Longtongue ordered softly, pointing with her tail at a patch in the dirt, littered with reddened spruce needles. Otterpaw did as he was commanded, gently placing Darkpaw’s body on the ground. As he dug, Longtongue disappeared, padding around the graves and removing any wilted flowers, collecting a bundle in her mouth. Digging was difficult, the partially frozen earth made Otterpaw's claws sting as they were wrenched harshly. By the time Otterpaw was finished his task Longtongue had returned, delicately placing new flowers on each grave that was missing one. Otterpaw realized the graves were dug in tight circles around the base of the spruce tree, and the one he had dug completed a circle near the edge. 

Finished digging, Otterpaw scrambled out of the hole, looking over at Longtongue as she carried several flowers over. He recognized them as the flowers Briartangle had placed on Darkpaw’s body earlier. Longtongue leaned into the grave, gently dropping one inside. 

“What are those flowers for?” Otterpaw asked, breaking the silence as he helped Longtongue scoop dirt back over Darkpaw’s body. Longtongue had placed the remaining flowers a safe distance away. They were a dark blue, some of them almost purple, and bell-shaped, tipped downwards towards the ground as if they were grieving. 

“They’re bluebells,” Longtongue mewed, focused on her work, “They signify the death of an apprentice. All the graves are marked with flowers that represent the cats rank. It’s my job to keep the flowers fresh so the spirits here can live on in Starclan.”

“How do you know which ones to use?” 

Longtongue lifted her head, packing down the last bit of dirt and turning to face the graveyard. “I know every cat that’s buried here by name. It’s my duty as an elder,” she explained as she picked up one of the purple flowers, resting it on the overturned dirt that marked where Darkpaw’s body lay. She motioned for Otterpaw to follow, padding around the circle of flowers and stopping at a yellow flower. The shape was strange, long and tapered at the end but flaring into several beautiful buds. 

“This is Slipjaw, the second medicine cat Rockclan ever had,” Longtongue's voice was wistful, “A part of me remembers her, she died while I was a very young kit. Her body was deformed horribly since birth, but it never prevented her from doing her duty. She was an amazing medicine cat.” The elder rested a paw on the grave, near the flower that marked it. “While I still replace her flower, a part of me senses she no longer walks our skies.”  
Longtongue went silent then, and Otterpaw muffled his own questions. He would ask her what that meant later. Slipjaw’s grave was close to the base of the tree, in the second circle from the center. Otterpaw stared at the graves around him. Ancient cats were buried beneath his paws, all of them remembered and taken care of by the cat standing beside him. Some part of him felt like he shouldn’t be here, that he was unworthy of witnessing such an act. Lilypaw should be here instead, able to properly bury her sister and gain the knowledge that Darkpaw would be safe in Starclan forever. 

The walk back to camp was silent, both cats unsure what to say. Cats had begun returning to their duties, but Greystar stopped them as he leapt onto the ledge, calling the cats together with a howl. 

“Despite the loss of Darkpaw, there is still a cat that deserves to become a warrior,” Greystar mewed, looking down at Lilypaw, who still hadn’t moved from her spot in the middle of camp. 

This announcement made Lilypaw’s head shoot up. “No! Not without Darkpaw,” she snarled, fresh tears threatening to spill from her green eyes. Boltstrike had returned to camp and he hurried over to his daughter, standing by her side. 

“She wouldn’t want you to lose this,” he murmured close to Lilypaw’s head, and she fell silent, her gaze still burning.

Greystar resumed his speech, although Otterpaw noticed it was much shorter than what he would usually say. It was sombre as if Greystar didn't want to dwell on it for too long.

When they cheered Lilyswirl’s warrior name, even Otterpaw didn’t feel the joy in it. The name was hollow, and there was a pause after it for the name that was missing. Lilyswirl turned away from the cats around her, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the ground as she padded to the warrior's den. Cats surrounded her, softly whispering their condolences. Leopardleap was among them, and he alone followed her into the warrior’s den, whispering softly. 

Otterpaw’s heart twisted painfully, the grief suddenly overrun by an emotion he couldn’t name as he saw Leopardleap’s tail draped gracefully over his friend’s back, his muzzle close to her head as he talked. He felt the fur on the back of his neck rising, and his claws scraped the rock below them. While a small part of him was surprised by his sudden outburst, the other half gave in too it, storming off to the apprentice’s den, ignoring the cats that gave him concerned glances. Whatever the name of this emotion, it was better than the grief threatening to overtake him.


	11. Chapter 10

A heavy snowfall had buried the camp in white, and Otterpaw sunk down to his belly fur as he stepped out of his den. He dug out the snow that had gathered at the entrance, pushing it to the side. Cats around the camp were doing similar work, making sure all the den entrances were clear. Otterpaw could barely see Willowtail as the tom approached, his white fur blending in with the snow easily. 

“I need you to change the elder’s bedding, they’ll need fresh moss to stay warm,” Willowtail mewed as he reached Otterpaw, flicking his ear. Otterpaw rolled his eyes, kicking at the snow in front of him. 

“You’re the only apprentice now, that means you have more duties,” Willowtail chided, his whiskers twitching in amusement, “and I’m sure Longtongue has missed you.” The white tom turned away then, flicking Otterpaw’s nose with the tip of his tail. Otterpaw sneezed as snowflakes flew into his face, swiping playfully at Willowtail’s receding tail tip.

Otterpaw padded into the elder’s den, accidentally tracking snow inside.

“Careful! It’s cold enough already,” Longtongue called, but her mew had no real malice. She smiled as Otterpaw padded over, her striped tail swaying back and forth idly. “Missingear isn’t much for cuddling, not that I blame her.” Longtongue fixed her amber gaze on the curled up form of the other elder lying on the opposite side of the den. Missingear’s sides rose and fell shallowly, her back turned to the other cats. Otterpaw could see her ribs poking through her sides. 

“Do you guys want me to bring you some prey?” Otterpaw asked, turning back to Longtongue. She nodded, and Otterpaw left the den with a final glance at Missingear. 

When he returned, a mouse hanging from his jaws, the sound of scraping claws made his ears shoot up. He scrambled into the den, eyes wide. 

“Oh Otterpaw, thank you for the mouse, but you should really go,” Longtongue mewed. The elder had moved from her nest and was crouched next to Missingear, who had begun thrashing in her sleep. Longtongue was clearly struggling as she tried to hold the larger she-cat down, her meagre weight barely affecting Missingear’s rapid movement. Otterpaw dropped the mouse, slowly backing towards the entrance. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as Missingear suddenly turned to him, her eyes open. They were hauntingly empty, and sudden fear appeared in their green depths. 

Missingear stilled for a moment, Longtongue still draped over her back from the she-cat's attempts to still her. Without warning, Missingear leapt forward, paws outstretched to grab Otterpaw’s head. But the apprentice was fast, quickly ducking and dodging out of the way of the big elder, who hurtled past him and into the snow outside. Missingear skidded to a halt, her head hanging low and her sides heaving. Otterpaw’s ears were pressed flat against his head and he could hear the blood pounding in them. His claws had unsheathed instinctively and he dug them into the rock, satisfied by the scraping feeling. A small part of him wondered what he would have done if Missingear had hit her target. 

“Get Briartangle!” Longtongue’s panicked shout broke him out of his daze and he nodded, racing across the camp to the medicine den. Before Otterpaw went inside it he glanced over his shoulder, heart still racing. Missingear had sat down now, already shaking from the cold while Longtongue soothed her by gently stroking her tail over the dark tabby's spine.

“Her attacks are getting worse” Otterpaw heard Briartangle mew from his seat outside the elder's den. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but he was desperate to know why the elder had attacked him like that. 

“She thought Otterpaw was her ex-mate,” Longtongue mewed, although Otterpaw had to strain to hear her soft voice. 

There was a pause before Briartangle mewed, “I've given her some chamomile to help her relax, but make her eat when she wakes up. She looks starved.” The medicine cats harsh words grew louder as she neared the den entrance, glancing over at Otterpaw. She scoffed when she saw the apprentice, not bothering to waste her time by lecturing him for eavesdropping. Otterpaw glanced at the ground shamefully, finally standing up to return to his duties. As he did, Leopardleap suddenly shoved past him, scrabbling into the elder's den. A pang of sympathy appeared in Otterpaw’s chest at the sight; he couldn't imagine what he would do if Russetpelt was that ill. 

“Hey, Otterpaw!” Lilyswirl's cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts as he neared the apprentice's den. He dipped his head to the pretty grey and white she-cat, a small smile forcing its way onto his features. She motioned for him to lay beside her and he obliged, sniffing at the half-eaten mouse she had in front of her paws. 

“Go ahead and finish it off,” Lilyswirl mewed, her tail flicking rhythmically back and forth behind her. Otterpaw purred gratefully, taking a bite. 

“Can I ask you something?” he mewed, shuffling his front paws underneath his chest. Lilyswirl nodded, concern flickering across her green eyes momentarily. “Why did you and Dar-” he stopped, “Why did you ignore me as a kit?”

Lilyswirl sighed, casting a wistful look towards the nursery. It was empty right now, but Leafspot was expecting Stubbytail and Fireclaw's kits so it wouldn't stay that way for long. “Honestly Otterpaw, Boltstrike told me too.” Otterpaw’s amber gaze widened, but he let her continue. 

“After your littermates were stillborn, Boltstrike told me and Darkpaw you wouldn't survive either. He said you were weak and we should spare ourselves the pain of losing a friend.” Lilyswirl looked at her paws, shame digging at her heart. “I guess Darkpaw got over that, but I never forgot his words. Only when you became an apprentice did I stop worrying about losing you.” Her green gaze turned to him now, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. 

“I'm sorry Otterpaw, I should've ignored him, I know that now. Being your friend would have been worth it, even if you had died as a kit.” She leaned against him then, pressing her head into his shoulder and Otterpaw was at a loss for words. That admission was something he never expected to hear from anyone, let alone Lilyswirl. The proud she-cat had never been one for admitting her faults. 

Otterpaw licked the top of her head, soothing the fur down flat. “I forgive you Lilyswirl, you didn't know any better,” he murmured, and he knew it was true. As a kit he had resented his older denmates, hating their superiority complex. But, he realized he didn't even need to know what Boltstrike had done, he had forgiven Lilyswirl and Darkpaw long before this moment. The two cats sat in silence then, slowly grooming each other, the remains of the mouse ignored.

On the other side of camp, Whitewhisker's hackles rose as she watched her daughter sharing tongues, her fiery amber gaze locked on Otterpaw.


	12. Chapter 11

The ceremony was uneventful. There were no other apprentice’s becoming warriors, and the clan was still wary from the events of Lilyswirl’s ceremony only two moons ago. Greystar’s speech was brief, and the entire clan seemed eager to return to their duties. After giving Otterpaw his new name, Ottersnatch, Greystar had leapt from his perch without much celebration. Cats congratulated Ottersnatch, but they were mostly his few friends. Lilyswirl and Willowtail were the most excited, and even Leopardleap spared the new warrior a few kind words. As he nodded his head to cats that passed, occasionally mewing thanks for their good wishes, the fur on the back of his neck stood up. The tip of his tail twitched and Ottersnatch turned his head, meeting a sharp amber gaze. Whitewhisker was sitting beneath the shade of a rock ledge, watching him closely. Her gaze was unsettling, and Ottersnatch resisted the urge to flatten his ears. Lilyswirl’s joyful shout tore his attention away from Whitewhisker, and he dismissed the strange occurrence as he padded towards the camp entrance where Lilyswirl was waiting with Leopardleap and Beavertail, preparing to head out on a patrol. 

As the patrol returned, Ottersnatch spotted Boltstrike sitting next to his mate. When the deputy spotted Lilyswirl he stood up, eagerly padding over to greet her. Lilyswirl smiled, but it lacked her previous enthusiasm. Boltstrike didn’t seem to notice as he licked the top of Lilyswirl’s head, a proud sparkle in his eyes. He looked over at Ottersnatch, ears perking. 

“Forgive me, I forgot to congratulate you earlier,” Boltstrike mewed, his voice smooth, “I’m sure you’ll be a fine warrior.” Ottersnatch nodded, mewing a quick thanks. Something about the deputy made his pelt prickle, and the discomfort radiating off Lilyswirl wasn’t helping. Her eyes pleaded for Boltstrike to leave, and Leopardleap subtly stepped in between the she-cat and her father. While Boltstrike didn’t seem to get the message from the younger warriors, he moved his attention to Beavertail to discuss the details of the patrol. A silent sigh of relief spread through Leopardleap, Ottersnatch and Lilyswirl but they all quickly dismissed it, unwilling to admit the discomfort they had shared. 

A familiar feeling of unease crept over Ottersnatch’s pelt, and he turned his head to where Whitewhisker was sitting. Fed up with her constant staring, Ottersnatch touched his muzzle to Lilyswirl’s in a goodbye before padding over to the freshkill pile, picking out a fish. While most of the river was inaccessible, the area around the rapids rarely froze over so there was always fish to eat. Ottersnatch winced at the thought of having to use his paws to break the ice, it was a marvel Iceclan cats didn’t constantly break their legs. Whitewhisker perked her ears curiously as Ottersnatch padded over, a fish dangling from his jaws. He dropped it at her paws, looking down at her. The tan she-cat was settled peacefully on the ground, her tail curled elegantly around herself. She dipped her head to sniff the fish before looking up at Ottersnatch, a hint of suspicion in her eyes. 

“I figured we could share this and talk,” Ottersnatch mewed, not bothering with small talk. There was clearly something Whitewhisker wanted to say to him. Some of the anxiety melted away from Whitewhisker’s shoulders at his words, and she nodded her head. 

“I apologize for not approaching you, I realize my behaviour must have been disturbing,” Her voice was soft, and Ottersnatch didn’t miss her paranoid glance around the camp. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather discuss this outside of camp.” 

Ottersnatch nodded, settling beside Whitewhisker to share the prey he’d brought. He was careful not to touch her as even his slightest movement made her flinch despite her efforts to hide it. 

The two cats ate in silence, Ottersnatch leaving most of the fish for the elder warrior. If Whitewhisker noticed, she didn’t comment. It wasn’t hard to spot her ribs poking through her sides and while she was naturally frail, Ottersnatch couldn’t help but wonder if she would retire early. Darkpaw’s death had only added to her stress, and it was clearly having an effect on the skinny she-cat. Ottersnatch waited patiently for her to finish, busying himself with grooming, licking his spiky fur as flat as he could manage. A small part of him wished Russetpelt were here, she’d always been better at this than him, but he knew it was inappropriate for a warrior to ask his mother to groom him. 

Whitewhisker stood suddenly, licking her lips clean and swiping a paw over her whiskers. She looked down at Ottersnatch expectantly and he scrambled to his paws, easily keeping up with the she-cat as they walked out of the camp. Boltstrike was sitting with Beavertail and Willowtail, his gaze making Ottersnatch’s whiskers twitch. However, Boltstrike didn’t move to stop them and Whitewhisker kept her gaze firmly fixed on the camp entrance. Ottersnatch felt his fur lay flat as they slipped out of the camp, squeezing through the rock tunnel and out into the vast expanse of cliffs and spruce trees.

Whitewhisker led him along the cliff side, close enough that if Ottersnatch looked over he could see the frozen river beneath. They walked above the rapids and Whitewhisker suddenly turned sharply, leading him away from the cliff edge. Ottersnatch blinked in confusion, taking a couple steps towards the spot where Whitewhisker had turned before a warning hiss stopped him. 

“Careful. You don’t want to fall down that,” Whitewhisker mewed, motioning for him to follow her in the opposite direction. Ottersnatch blinked in confusion, leaning forward. Surprised, he scrambled back quickly. The tall grass had suddenly disappeared into a deep crevasse. Carefully, he looked down it, eyes wide. It ran straight towards the cliffside, slowly opening wider. It angled downwards and, at the very bottom, Ottersnatch could just make out the lap of the river against the shore. The section he had stumbled across was easily big enough for a cat to fall through, and Ottersnatch stepped away warily, hurrying to catch up with Whitewhisker. 

The two cats quickly travelled far from the crevasse and the cliffs, eventually returning to the silence of the spruce forests. Most of the snow had been collected in the branches of the trees, so walking underneath them was easy. The familiar crinkle of the spruce needles below his paws helped Ottersnatch relax, and he stopped worrying about where exactly they were headed. Eventually, Whitewhisker stopped in a small clearing, sitting down slowly across from Ottersnatch and wrapping her tail around her paws, amber gaze fixed on the cat in front of her. A couple more fox-lengths and they would have reached Iceclan territory. 

“Why did you bring me out here? What do you want to tell me?” Ottersnatch asked, agitation making him flex his paws against the ground. It was cold, and the sky had grown dark with the threat of a storm. Whatever Whitewhisker wanted had better be worth the trek out here. 

Whitewhisker looked him up and down slowly, her gaze unreadable. Eventually, she looked up, finally meeting Ottersnatch’s gaze. He felt his spine tingle at the intensity her gaze held. He couldn’t name the emotion there, but he had never seen that look on any cat. She took a deep breath and Ottersnatch could see her ribs expand, struggling with an unknown effort. When she finally spoke, it took Ottersnatch several moments to comprehend what she said. 

“Boltstrike killed Darkpaw.”


	13. Chapter 12

“What-” 

“You can’t tell anyone!” Whitewhisker’s frantic shout cut him off, and Ottersnatch blinked. Her calm demeanour had vanished and her sides were heaving as she struggled to breathe, her claws ripping up dirt as she tried to ground herself. She was staring at the ground, her amber eyes huge and her ears pressed completely flat against her head. 

“I mean it, you can’t!” Her gaze shot up and he reflexively took a step back. “I shouldn’t have said anything- I don’t know why I did-” She started to ramble, her eyes growing wider and her pupils dilating with panic. “I just wanted someone to know, I couldn’t stand seeing him get all that praise when he-” She choked and sobbed, coughing as she struggled to continue speaking. 

“Whitewhisker-” Ottersnatch took a step towards the trembling she-cat, confusion and guilt making his mind swim. 

“No! No, don’t come near me.” She snarled at him, her eyes suddenly lighting up with fury. Ottersnatch stopped in his tracks, his hackles rising defensively. This seemed to snap her out of it slightly and she took a deep breath, the fur along her spine settling. 

“Sorry I… I shouldn’t have said anything. Ignore me,” she chuckled dryly, staring down at the ground. “I was a fool to think you’d believe me, no one ever has before.” 

A pang of empathy made Ottersnatch step forward again, and he continued when Whitewhisker didn’t react. He was now only a tail length away, he didn’t dare go closer in case he upset the she-cat again. 

“I believe you Whitewhisker,” He mewed softly, dipping his head to try and meet her gaze. Whitewhisker took a shaky breath, slowly lifting her head. 

“Look, I don’t have proof, and I’m not telling you so I can bring him to justice or anything like that. I just needed someone to know, and you seemed like a good option.” 

“I never trusted Boltstrike,” Ottersnatch agreed, sitting down as he waited to hear the rest of Whitewhisker’s story. 

“It’s all a front, his kind attitude, his charm. Oh, he’s the perfect deputy, but he’s far from the perfect mate or father.” Anger began to creep into Whitewhisker’s tone as she spoke, her claws digging into the frozen ground. She told Ottersnatch about Boltstrike’s abuse of her for moons before she had kits and his rage towards Darkpaw. 

“She reminded him of me,” Whitewhisker explained bitterly, “We were both weak and he couldn’t stand that. That’s how I know he did it. Darkpaw was going to fail her test to become a warrior and Boltstrike couldn’t stand having a failure as a daughter.” 

They both fell into a heavy silence for several moments, Whitewhisker having said her piece and Ottersnatch unsure how to reply. 

“You can’t tell Lilyswirl I told you any of this. I know you two are close but she’d never forgive me,” Whitewhisker finally mewed as she stood. She didn’t wait for Ottersnatch to reply as she padded past him, disappearing into the spruce trees with a flick of her tail. 

The dark clouds began to drop more snow onto the windswept forest, but Ottersnatch didn’t notice the chill. Anger seeped into his heart as he processed everything Whitewhisker had told him. His rage was strong enough he didn’t notice as the storm worsened, clouding his vision with white as the snow slowly collected on his back. Eventually, the survival in his subconscious forced him to stand and he padded in the direction of camp, his eyes narrowed against the violent wind. It whipped across his body and stung his skin and eyes, the pain only fueling the hatred he felt. Boltstrike. He was vile and cruel, yet the clan had been blind to it. He and Whitewhisker couldn’t prove anything Boltstrike had done, but Ottersnatch wouldn’t let him get away with it. He needed to be punished, and although Ottersnatch didn’t know how yet, he would ensure Boltstrike got what he deserved. Whitewhisker needed that, Lilyswirl needed that, Darkpaw needed that. 

When Ottersnatch finally returned to camp, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been gone. His paws ached from the cold and his pelt had collected clumps of snow that were weighing him down as he stumbled towards the warrior's den. He didn’t care that he had never made a nest in here or that he was tracking snow inside, his body only demanded he lay down. 

He fell onto his side next to Lilyswirl, his tired eyes barely able to make out her faint silhouette in the darkness. She must have heard him come in because she was suddenly crouched above him, her green eyes round with worry. Her mouth moved in a way that meant she was saying something, but all Ottersnatch could hear was the blood roaring in his ears. The soothing lap of her tongue quieted his mind and he fell asleep to the sound of her gentle words as she cleaned the snow from his fur.


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter onward is where most of the gore warnings apply, so continue with caution!

Several moons had passed and the sun had begun to warm the forest, exposing more of the rapidly flowing river and coaxing prey from their dens. Some of the green was returning to the landscape, although the bitter claws of winter still held the valley in a tight grip. The clan was revelling in the newfound warmth and more abundant prey. Leafspot had just given birth to two healthy kits, Chinookkit and Elkkit, and both of their fathers were constantly going in and out of the nursery, always eager to check on their surrogate mother’s health. Speckleshine was quite fond of teasing Fireclaw and Stubbytail about this, and both toms reacted with flustered indignation. Overall, the clan was bustling. 

However, Ottersnatch was unable to share in the joyous attitude of his clanmates. He hadn’t shaken what Whitewhisker had told him, and just the sight of Boltstrike made his blood boil. His plans to avenge Darkpaw had made no progress, and he was growing more and more bitter as the days went on. Lilyswirl was the only cat who hadn’t noticed his foul attitude, but Leopardleap took up as much of her time as he could. Not that Ottersnatch cared, being around Lilyswirl made his heart lurch as he remembered what Boltstrike had done without her knowledge. Despite the strong urge to tell Lilyswirl everything, he remained faithful to his promise. Whitewhisker would still watch him from across camp occasionally, but they hadn’t spoken since that fateful day and Ottersnatch had learned to ignore it. 

Ottersnatch was sitting in his usual spot near the nursery, his tail flicking idly as he lay with an ignored partially eaten robin in front of him. Nearby, the faint sounds of kits mewling came out of the tunnel leading to the nursery, and Ottersnatch felt a small smile creep onto his face. He couldn’t resist poking his head inside, bringing the robin with him. 

Leafspot took the offered prey gratefully, obviously still exhausted from her labour only a couple days ago. Ottersnatch sniffed the two small bundles of fur at Leafspot’s belly as the queen ate. He knew from Fireclaw that the tan tabby was Chinookkit, and the tabby with grey flecks was Elkkit. They were both healthy and neither of them had opened their eyes yet. While Elkkit moved peacefully, only occasionally pawing at her mother’s belly, Chinookkit pawed frantically, his little hind legs kicking. He opened his mouth and let out a loud mew, and Ottersnatch realized he had been the cause of the earlier ruckus. 

“It feels like he hasn’t stopped mewling since he was born. It reminds me of Fireclaw,” Leafspot mewed, gazing fondly at the tiny kit. “He’ll be quite the pawful when he’s apprenticed.” Ottersnatch chuckled softly at Leafspot’s comment, bidding the queen goodbye with a final look at Chinookkit and his sister. Part of him wondered if he would get to apprentice one of the kits.

The smile on his face vanished as he stepped out of the nursery and he had to force his hackles to lie flat as he spotted Boltstrike sitting beneath Greystar’s den, his tail draped over Whitewhisker’s back. A quiet scraping sound caught his attention and Ottersnatch quickly resheathed his claws, glancing around to see if any cat had noticed. He tried to force himself to look away, but his body refused to cooperate, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the subtle way Boltstrike whispered in Whitewhisker’s ear, the way she flinched slightly at the close contact. He couldn’t control the way his body moved when Boltstrike stood and padded out of camp. The way his paws followed the steps of the deputy or the way Whitewhisker watched him, an unreadable expression in her amber eyes. 

Ottersnatch wasn’t thinking as he crept through the forest, following Boltstrike’s scent. The sun was bright today, warm enough to slowly melt the snow still blanketing the ground. This meant it was easy to follow Boltstrike’s pawprints, and Ottersnatch felt a thrill of sick glee as he realized Boltstrike was headed towards the cliffs. This could be his chance! If he caught Boltstrike by surprise it would be easy enough to push the deputy off the edge and towards the river below. The clan would assume it was an accident and move on, mourning his loss but Ottersnatch could live with that. No cat would know what Boltstrike had really done, but Ottersnatch would live with the knowledge that the wretched cat had gotten his dues. He thought about Chinookkit and Elkkit, those tiny lives in the nursery that had only just begun, and it hardened his resolve. Boltstrike could hurt them if he continued to exist, and Ottersnatch refused to allow that. He couldn't allow that. 

Ottersnatch followed Boltstrike for a while longer, eerily calm as he stalked the black and white tom. It had become the same as tracking down a coyote or a fox. Boltstrike was no more than a threat to the clan that Ottersnatch was determined to drive out. He was a monster, a vile creature that needed to be exterminated. Excitement tingled down Ottersnatch’s spine as he recognized where they were. The crevasse was only a few fox-lengths away from where Boltstrike was now crouched, stalking an unwary crow. While Ottersnatch couldn’t be sure Boltstrike didn’t know where the crevasse was, he was sure he could drive the tom in that direction. Creeping forward, Ottersnatch let his mind calm, focused only on the task at hand. It didn’t take long for him to be within striking distance, and Ottersnatch wiggled his haunches, pouncing forwards with a mighty leap. 

He landed squarely on Boltstrike’s back, claws unsheathed to dig into the tom’s shoulders. Boltstrike yowled in pain and surprise, rearing onto his hind legs in an attempt to throw his attacker off. The crow let out a squawk of alarm, fluttering into the air to vanish over the treeline. Ottersnatch ignored it, sinking his teeth into Boltstrike’s scruff as he clung to the tom’s back. With a powerful thrash, Boltstrike managed to wrench him off but Ottersnatch took several chunks of fur with him. Whipping around to face his foe, Boltstrike bared his teeth and flattened his ears. Surprise flickered across his face, and Boltstrike stopped, lifting his head. 

“Ottersnatch? What are you doing?” There was a trace of rage in his voice, and Boltstrike was obviously trying to stay calm. The scent of blood reached Ottersnatch’s nose and he spotted a faint trickle coming from Boltstrike’s shoulder. 

“I’m giving you what you deserve,” Ottersnatch snarled, leaping for him again. But Boltstrike was expecting it this time and the more experienced warrior leapt out of the way, slashing Ottersnatch’s side as he did. Ottersnatch growled, whirling around. The pain barely registered through the thick fog of fury clouding his mind, and he swiped at Boltstrike’s face, managing to nick his muzzle. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Boltstrike swiped at Ottersnatch’s front, but the tabby reared onto his hind legs, coming down on Boltstrike’s head with his full weight, “But you’ll be exiled for this.” He hissed, recoiling away from the blow. Only a few more steps and Boltstrike would tumble to his death. 

Despite Boltstrike’s experience, Ottersnatch was still heavier, and there was nothing the deputy could do as Ottersnatch threw his full weight into him, shoving him backwards several tail lengths. Enraged, Boltstrike bit and clawed at any part of Ottersnatch he could reach, but the young warrior seemed impervious to the damage. Ottersnatch continued shoving him, biting at his paws and legs when he got a good grip on the ground. 

“Ottersnatch, please! What did I do?!” Boltstrike yelled, panic beginning to set in as he scrambled his hind paws against the dirt to no avail. His eyes widened as he suddenly felt the edge of a cliff beneath his paws, and he clawed at Ottersnatch’s back in a desperate attempt to move forward. 

“I’m innocent Ottersnatch! Whatever you think I did I didn’t!” He was screaming now, and his denial only fueled Ottersnatch’s hatred. 

“You disgust me,” Ottersnatch snarled, throwing his head and shoulders up, easily lifting Boltstrike with them. His eyes met Boltstrike’s for a moment as the deputy desperately flailed for a grip on the cliff side. The struggle sent pebbles tumbling down the crevasse, bouncing down the sharp rocks before finally settling at the bottom. Triumph made Ottersnatch grin as he stared down at Boltstrike, giving him a final shove with his front paw to dislodge the meagre grip the tom had on the rockface. A sly grin of satisfaction appeared on his face as Boltstrike plummeted into the chasm, his howls of pain suddenly cut off by a sickening crunch as his body collided with a large boulder before dropping out of sight.


	15. Chapter 14

The sound of rocks cascading down the crevasse as they followed Boltstrike’s body was all Ottersnatch could hear as he stared down the rocky slope. His paws flexed against the ground, still unsatisfied with his vengeance. Boltstrike had gotten off easy.

Without telling them to, his paws carried him along the cliffside, down to the steep path that led to the river shore. The rapids roared nearby, drowning out the harsh cries of the crows circling above them. Ottersnatch paid them no mind, his steps sure over the familiar terrain. There was very little space between the cliffside and the river here, and the gentle spray of foam slowly dampened his fur. Blood, tangy and fresh, hit his nose several moments before he saw the red stain spreading over the rocks. It steamed in the chilly air, and Ottersnatch carefully placed a paw in it, relishing the sticky feeling as it clung to his fur. He tracked the pool upwards, quickly finding the source. 

Boltstrike’s body was mangled, his lower half twisted so his hind legs stuck out at a ninety-degree angle from his spine. His head was caved in on one side, his eye a mangled and bloody mess. Fresh blood trickled from his gaping mouth, dripping onto the rocks and adding to the growing collection below him. The stream of red had met the river, which eagerly lapped it away in its torrent of white, washing the grey rocks clean. Ottersnatch approached the body, barely recognizable as a cat now, a grim curiosity prompting him to lean close. It was subtle, but the shallow movement of Boltstrike’s flank was impossible to miss in the relative stillness of the rest of his body. There was a flash of green as his intact eye peeked open, and Ottersnatch leaned down, vaguely impressed by Boltstrike’s ability to survive the fall. He sniffed along Boltstrike’s ruined face, relishing in the subtle increase of speed in his laboured breathing the closer Ottersnatch got. A glint caught his attention, and Ottersnatch looked to see a large, jagged rock poking the side of Boltstrike’s pelt. 

“Are you afraid?” Ottersnatch pressed his mouth against Boltstrike's good ear, his voice barely above a whisper, “I know she was.” The moment the words left his mouth Ottersnatch ripped his face away, lining himself up with Boltstrike's side, opposite of the jagged rock. With a roar of unbridled rage, Ottersnatch threw his body into Boltstrikes, the sickening crunch of breaking ribs and tearing flesh barely registering in his ears. He hit Boltstrike again and again until a sharp pain pierced his shoulder and he pulled away. 

The hard point of the rock now stuck out of Boltstrikes flank, and Ottersnatch felt blood dripping from the spot where it had dug into his shoulder. The black and white tom's body had been perfectly bisected by the wedge and he hung suspended there, a torrent of blood flowing from his mouth and the hole in his side. His good eye was open wide in pain and horror, the green depths empty now as the life dripped out of them. 

Ottersnatch's sides heaved as the struggle caught up with him. The adrenaline was wearing off and he looked down at his paws, now red and soaked in Boltstrike's blood. He snorted, padding past the body along the riverbank, stepping carefully to avoid falling into the swirling water. He left behind bloody pawprints, but the water was already lapping them away. 

“What have you done…”

The horrified mew made Ottersnatch lift his head, his tired eyes taking a moment to make out the blurry spotted shape a little ways ahead. Leopardleap. His ears were pressed flat against his head and his hackles were raised, but the faint tremble of his legs made Ottersnatch sneer. Not so brave now, are you? 

Silently, Ottersnatch stepped towards Leopardleap, his amber eyes dark and untelling. Most of his pelt was stained a deep red and his claws clicked against the rock as he approached the other warrior. 

“I saw you, I saw you kill him!” Leopardleap shouted, his confident attitude souring beneath his quivering voice. He was frozen, unable to move backwards as Ottersnatch grew close enough to pounce. 

As Leopardleap opened his mouth to babble, to beg for his life perhaps, Ottersnatch leapt, easily knocking the skinny cat over. He had Leopardleap pinned beneath him, his massive hind paw planted squarely on Leopardleap's belly as he thrashed. 

“No! No! I won't say anything, think of Lilyswi-” The tom’s begging pleas were cut off abruptly by the slash of Ottersnatch's claws in his throat. His words died, replaced by blood that bubbled from his mouth as he tried to breath. Leopardleap’s body twitched once, twice, before stilling completely.

Ottersnatch stepped off of him, shoving the corpse to the side. It was a shame really. This beautiful cat, with his unique pelt and body, now scarred and ruined. The blood stained his pelt, adding darker spots that seemed to circle around the rosettes that already marked him. 

Ottersnatch refused to think about it as he dragged Leopardleap’s body to rest next to Boltstrike's. He carefully arranged them, leaving Boltstrike hanging from the rock that impaled him. With a heave, Ottersnatch pushed a large rock over, fully covering both of their bodies. Now, the only evidence was the stream of blood washing into the river. 

On his way back to camp Ottersnatch swam through the river, the freezing water bringing him back to his senses. Regret was lacking from the emotions he felt and relief washed over him instead. He had succeeded. There had been an extra casualty, but the clan didn't know what had happened. Lilyswirl didn't, and would never, know.

As Ottersnatch licked the fur and blood from his pelt, taking extra care to hide the wound in his shoulder with his thick fur, pride wormed its way into his heart. He was a skilled and intelligent warrior. While the clan would never know his achievements, he would rest well with the knowledge that he'd made the canyon a safer place. For Lilyswirl, for Whitewhisker, and for the cats like Chinookkit who had been spared from Boltstrike's evil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Now, a quick note:
> 
> Most of this story was written well over a year ago, and I have a lot of problems with it. Because of that, I'm likely going to completely rewrite it at some point in the future, probably before I begin working on the sequel. However, I figured I had teased this story to my followers for long enough and I wanted to at least share the story I had, even if I wasn't completely proud of it (I'm trying to work on my perfectionism and post things even if I don't think it's my best work so bear with me). Any updates on a rewrite (and just general art for this series) will be posted on my youtube channel, https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCNTVd9qWSBHNViNbkHY_D0Q

**Author's Note:**

> For character designs and other information about the clans, visit the [website](https://the-otter-and-the-crow.my-free.website/)  
> This story also takes place in the same universe as Night’s Eye, an amazing series by Charminq and VYRITE which you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857247/chapters/34395824)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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